


A Peaceful Night

by Rhysand_vs_Fenrys



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysand_vs_Fenrys/pseuds/Rhysand_vs_Fenrys
Summary: The holidays are a time for too many parties, too many people, and too much noise. After the festivities are over though, one can take solace in the love of their other half and the light that person brings into their life. *** As a year end/ holiday special, this fic comes in 6 different versions across the ToG and ACOTAR fandoms.





	1. Manorian Edition

**Manorian Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Dorian found himself wandering through the wreckage of his not-so-secret second home.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Dorian's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he chatted idly with his friends.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the Rifthold estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- largely witches he'd met who chose to remain in Adarlan or servants of the palace who he'd befriended.

He and Manon had prepared gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables (not to mention the entire cow they'd had delivered for Abraxos to feast on in the garden). The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four small bundles of scented candles or samplers of Rifthold-made alcohol remained- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Three days before Yulemas, and Dorian had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Terrasen to mark altogether the holiday, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering in the Witch Kingdom, then this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day he and Manon would attend Chaol and Yrene's Yulemas party, then it was back to the palace for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Dorian loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew one of the two servants of the house would clean up the mess in the morning, Dorian picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to just go upstairs and rest, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the maids with an easier day than they were expecting.

Manon was outside getting Abraxos settled for the night, for Dorian the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe a candlelit bath with Manon later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Manon come in from outside, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Manon merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and went to change out of the loose shirt and linen pants she'd worn for the party.

Dorian stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next three days of feasting and celebrations would be with Chaol and Yrene, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year- especially his goddaughter Josefin, who he and Aelin had conspired to get three speckled black puppies (already potty trained, of course).

The puppies were asleep in a small heap in Dorian's study- the only room downstairs that could be closed off with a door and yet was within sight of Abraxos, who had a calming effect on the hyper puppies. He was oddly cautious of the little ones underfoot, as if he knew they were to be companions to the tiny human who loved to crawl-chase him around the yard.

He was hesitant at first about buying the ruined estate beside Chaol's. He had an entire palace to call his own already, but he wanted somewhere he and Manon could be alone during her visits. Somewhere that let him feel like a normal man, not the King of Adarlan. His two servants were the only ones allowed within the confines of the residence, everyone else who entered did so as friends (though, he'd befriended the servants as well).

It was the perfect home, no matter his initial reservations. Dorian found himself sleeping there more often than in the palace, and since he could shift and take on the form of any human, it was impossible for the poor guards Chaol sicced on him to ever keep track of their King. He could endure ruling an entire kingdom, but only if he had a place that was his own to go back to at the end of the day.

The palace belonged to the people of Adarlan, the estate to him and Manon alone.

Dorian smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Manon was back in the parlor by the time Dorian finished. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not with a view like that?" Dorian winked as he handed Manon her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Dorian could sit beside her, "What about you?"

Manon sighed, "Promise me that after Chaol's party and Yulemas we won't have any celebrations for a month."

"Four months," Dorian clinked his mug against Manon's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be an Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be," Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Manon was concerned. "Is Josefin too young to learn how to ride a wyvern?"

"Eight months old? Yeah, just a bit too young," Dorian snorted.

"When she's three I'm having a child's saddle made for you and Abraxos, so she can at least go for rides."

"If she throws up on me, you're cleaning it off before I change back."

"Deal," Manon took Dorian's mug from him and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Bargain struck, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his lover in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"The servants won't arrive until late tomorrow morning," Manon mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Chaol and Yrene aren't expecting us until early afternoon."

"I know that too," Dorian raised an eyebrow and peered down at Manon. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"Abraxos can open the outside latch on the study door if the puppies want out," it was a system they'd developed that worked better than expected.

"How bad do you think my memory is?"

"We're completely alone, and there won't be any interruptions for a long time," Manon shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

She growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Dorian teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing completely random things."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Dorian nuzzled the top of Manon's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, love. Take."

Manon's smile only grew, "Well in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Dorian was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Dorian's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Manon shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Dorian drifted away from Manon's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Manon a while to notice. Dorian's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Manon moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Dorian nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Dorian didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Manon shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Dorian took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Manon shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Dorian latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Manon jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Dorian kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Dorian loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Manon bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Dorian's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Dorian always teased and taunted Manon. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Dorian) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Dorian still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Manon's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Dorian's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Dorian was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Dorian's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Dorian's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Manon tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Dorian asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Manon bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Manon's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Manon was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Dorian laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me."

"As you wish," he purred.

Manon rested her hands on Dorian's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Dorian's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Manon dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Dorian's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Dorian lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Manon felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Dorian, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Manon could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Dorian responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Manon cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Dorian never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Manon's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Dorian was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Manon's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Manon laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Manon's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Dorian stood with Manon in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Manon was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Dorian washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Manon murmured after Dorian carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Dorian was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Dorian decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his lover's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Dorian smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	2. Elucien Edition

**Elucien Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Lucien found himself wandering through the wreckage of the old Archeron estate.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Lucien's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played Courtier once more and dazzled the near-endless stream of impoverished mortals come for early Solstice celebrations.

In all over a hundred mortals trickled through what remained of the estate- those too stubborn to take Rhys' offer of sanctuary in Night but too poor to afford any kind of celebration for the holiday. These were the people displaced by war- many of whom hunted in the same woods as Feyre once upon a time. They were hollow-cheeked and vacant-eyed, and it was Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa's honor to provide them with several days worth of food, fresh clothing, toys for the young ones, and even a few creature comforts- all bundled in large festive boxes provided by the High Lords and Ladies of Prythian.

In addition to the supplies handed out, he and his friends had prepared mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roasted meat, potatoes, and vegetables- better food than these people had in a long time. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as the three had set it all out, but it was still only barely enough.

Two days before Solstice proper, and Lucien had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering of High Lords and Ladies in Day with Helion, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he would travel north into Spring for a small celebration with Tamlin and some friends, then Solstice-proper would be at the riverfront estate in Velaris.

Lucien loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days was already taking its toll.

With a wave of his hand, Lucien conjured a garbage sack and began in the kitchen. An insignificant blast of magic could easily have taken care of every scrap of mess in a second, but he didn't want it to be clean so quickly. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment. Jurian and Vassa were otherwise engaged upstairs. For him, the third wheel in their little Band of Exiles, stress relief would have to come from a job well done (and maybe some time alone with a naughty book Jurian gave him for Solstice).

First, he scraped off any crumbs that remained- not that the starving masses had left much behind. They treated food with the same reverence Feyre had in her first days in Spring. After he was finished, he walked through the open rooms of the house, clearing away trash with the aid of another three bags. Then it was the bones that remained on the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest privvys.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it helped set his frazzled mind at ease.

Something rustled behind him. At the sound of skirts whispering against the tile floor Lucien smiled, but he didn't stop what he was doing. He'd prayed to every god in creation that she would find her way to him. They had to hide their relationship in Velaris, but here- here they were free. Only Rhys knew- the one who would winnow her down for these nights.

Lucien had to stop to dry the dishes four times, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do, he smiled. The mind-numbing task had given his brain a chance to reset and shook the weariness from his bones.

Before leaving the kitchen, he busied himself by making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. Knowing she wasn't one much for caffeine, he ensured hers was more hot cocoa than proper coffee. A plate of butter-cookies accompanied the drinks onto a platter, which he carried upstairs to his bedroom.

Elain was sitting in the middle of a sofa across from a roaring fire. Her dress was carefully folded on the dresser- her dresser once upon a time. When he, Vassa, and Jurien settled in the Archeron house, Lucien naturally chose Elain's room to be surrounded in his mate's scent- even though he wasn't entirely sure she wanted him. As Elain settled into being fae however, she recovered from Hybern's traumatic attack and gave Lucien a chance to court her in secret (lest Nesta lead an entire Illyrian legion to wipe him out).

Rhys and Feyre both knew that the pair were seeing one another, but only Rhys knew they'd recently added a physical side to their relationship. If Nesta was going to murder Lucien, he'd die knowing Elain tasted like peaches and cream.

Now only a plush blue blanket was between her bare skin and the couch, and she hadn't bothered covering herself with pesky underclothes, "Miss me?" she tipped her head back and smiled as Lucien came around the chair. It was nearly two weeks since they'd last seen one another, and his heart soared at the sight of her.

"How could I not?" Lucien smiled as he handed Elain her mug. She scooted over so that he could sit beside her, "How have you been?"

"Lonely," she took Lucien's mug as well and he obediently removed his shirt before settling onto the couch beside her. "I'll tell you what one of your Solstice gifts is early- I'm going to ask Rhys to teach me to winnow so that we can be together more often." Elain wouldn't leave her sister in Velaris and Lucien was happy living near the mortal lands. One day they would find a compromise for living conditions, but they were still enjoying the newness of everything. Those talks could happen once they were sure they were ready to give the whole mate-thing a go.

Elain nuzzled into Lucien's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his love at his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"I have to be ready to go by ten," Elain mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know." It was the routine pick-up time.

"We can't have any fun on Solstice- not with Nesta there watching."

"I know that too," Lucien raised an eyebrow and peered down at Elain. His brown eye drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're alone right now, and I'm naked," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Elain growled, "Then take the hint."

"What hint?" Lucien teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just talking about our holiday plans and dress code."

She grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Lucien nuzzled the top of Elain's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, my love. Take."

"Fine," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Lucien was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Lucien's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Elain shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Lucien drifted away from Elain's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Lucien breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Elain a while to notice. Lucien's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Elain moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Lucien nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Lucien didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Elain shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Lucien took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Elain shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Lucien latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Elain jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Lucien kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Lucien loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Elain bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Lucien's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Lucien always teased and taunted Elain. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Lucien) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Lucien still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Elain's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Lucien's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Lucien was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Lucien's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Lucien's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Elain tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Lucien asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Elain bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Elain's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Elain was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Lucien laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Elain rested her hands on Lucien's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Lucien's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Elain dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Lucien's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Lucien lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Elain felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Lucien, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Elain could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Lucien responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Elain cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Lucien never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Elain's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Lucien was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Elain's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Elain laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Elain's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Lucien stood with Elain in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Elain was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Lucien washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Elain murmured after Lucien carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Lucien was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Lucien decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his lover's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Lucien smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	3. Chaorene Edition

**Chaorene Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guest had drifted back to their own homes, Chaol found himself wandering through the wreckage of his Rifthold estate.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Chaol's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played tag with the younger trainees in the back garden or chatted idly with their parents.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- Yrene's students, their families, and those Torre healers who'd remained in Erilea to help her realize her dream of opening a second college. Chaol and his wife had prepared small gifts for every visitor, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four wrapped gifts remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a student who wasn't there that night.

Two days before Yulemas, and Chaol had already survived his fourth party. The first was an early feast in Terrasen to mark altogether the holiday, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering in the Witch Kingdom, followed by a party at the small estate Dorian and Manon bought together so that they had somewhere without the prying eyes of the palace servants, and then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day Chaol and his family would move to their chambers in the castle for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Chaol loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew the morning servants would clean up the mess, Chaol picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be so easy to go upstairs and give his aching back a rest, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the servants with an easier day than they were expecting.

Yrene was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe a bath of his own later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Yrene come downstairs and head for the parlor, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Yrene merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Chaol stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with Dorian and a visiting Manon, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year.

Though she was too small to enjoy it, he was also excited for his daughter's first holiday. The King, Queen, Prince, and new Princess of Terrasen had already lavished so many gifts on Josefin (named for Yrene's mother) that Dorian had to take wyvern form and make a special trip back to Adarlan with the haul. Leaving the witch kingdom a couple days later, he and Abraxos each took half a net filled with wrapped gifts- it seemed like all of Erilea was doting on his daughter, not that Chaol minded one bit. Still- he had to beg Aelin and Dorian not to give the infant a pack of speckled black puppies for Yulemas.

'Fine,' Aelin had relented when he explained an infant plus three puppies was just too much stress, 'but when she's three, she gets four dogs.'

Chaol's mother was in her and Terrin's wing of the estate with Joesfin now. Free of his father's abuse and evil, the Lady Westfall had blossomed in Rifthold. As Josefin's self-appointed nanny, she'd made a pack of new friends at the children's park. Once forced by his father to remain solely among the elite, her circle now included servants, governesses, and even a few scullery maids. He'd never seen her happier- and to be frank Chaol and Yrene were more than happy to let her take the baby one night a week so that they could have a few precious hours of uninterrupted rest.

This life- it was a miracle Chaol never thought he'd have. A wife whose love for him was as soul-deep as his for her, a perfect little baby girl he would do anything for (except take on three puppies), his best friend and brother on the throne where he belonged, and the kingdoms of Erilea united in friendship. Josefin was going to grow up in the kind of world people spoke of in legends- beautiful, peaceful, and happy-

-and with the Queen of Terrasen already conspiring to marry her to an as-of-yet unborn child of her own.

Chaol smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Yrene tipped her head back and smiled as Chaol entered the room. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not?" Chaol winked as he handed Yrene her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Chaol could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Yulemas we won't have any parties for a month."

"Four months," Chaol clinked his mug against Yrene's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be another Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be."

Yrene took Chaol's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his wife in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"We're heading to the palace tomorrow." Yrene mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know." The palace was only a ten minute walk away- if that far.

"Your mother leaves out the back with Josefin."

"I know that too," Chaol raised an eyebrow and peered down at Yrene. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Yrene growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Chaol teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just talking about schedules."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Chaol nuzzled the top of Yrene's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, wife. Take."

Yrene's smile grew, "In that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Chaol was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Chaol's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Yrene shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Chaol drifted away from Yrene's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Chaol breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Yrene a while to notice. Chaol's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Yrene moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Chaol nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Chaol didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Yrene shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Chaol took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Yrene shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Chaol latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Yrene jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Chaol kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Chaol loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Yrene bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Chaol's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Chaol always teased and taunted Yrene. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Chaol) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Chaol still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Yrene's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Chaol's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Chaol was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Chaol's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Chaol's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Yrene tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Chaol asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Yrene bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Yrene's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Yrene was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Chaol laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Yrene rested her hands on Chaol's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Chaol's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Yrene dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Chaol's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Chaol lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Yrene felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Chaol, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Yrene could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Chaol responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Yrene cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Chaol never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Yrene's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Chaol was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Yrene's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Yrene laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Yrene's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Chaol stood with Yrene in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Yrene was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Chaol washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Yrene murmured after Chaol carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Chaol was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Chaol decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Chaol smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	4. Nessian Edition

**Nessian Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Cassian found himself wandering through the wreckage of the cabin.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the living room and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Cassian's ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played tag with his young charges outside or chatted idly with their parents.

In all nearly fifty Illyrians trickled through his and Nesta's cabin for early Solstice celebrations- Nesta's troop and their families. The Archeron sister and her lover had prepared small gifts for every child, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roasted meats, potatoes, and vegetables. The girls were only eleven, but they looked up to Nesta as a big sister. Their families were less affectionate towards both the non-Illyrian and the bastard who trained their girls. By the end of the festivities though Cassian was certain he'd won over more than half the parents.

Two days before Solstice, and Cassian had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in WInter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering in Day with Helion (joined by most of the High Lords and Ladies of Prythian), then this party- the smallest gathering by far and yet somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day he and Nesta would head to Velaris for the customary two days of merrymaking (and drinking) that accompanied both Solstice and Feyre's birthday.

Cassian loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a heavy sigh he picked up a garback sack and began on the dining and cooking area. Nesta was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same ease of strain would come from setting the house right again (and maybe he could have a bath later too).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie in sight. Next, he set aside anything the two of them might nibble at for breakfast before the flight to Velaris (which amounted to a plate of cheese and some gingerbread cookies). In the sitting area, he cleared all trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet on the dining table, finally wisps of trash in the downstairs bathroom.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move the dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Cassian heated the water as much as he could stand and set to work. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training with the threat of broken bones.

He heard Nesta come downstairs, but he wasn't concerned that she would put herself to work. She understood what it felt like to be social-to-death and need monotony to pull yourself back together. Cassian was a big boy, he would ask for help if he wanted it.

Cassian stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be in Velaris with their family, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their solstice gifts this year.

He had a good idea of what Feyre and Elain were giving Nesta- an enchanted half-tall bookcase that connected to the private library at the riverfront estate. All Nesta had to do was leave a note with the books she wanted on any shelf and her sisters would load that special bookcase up for her to browse. Cassian helped send the two measurements for a spare corner where it would sit and she could spend her evenings after training reading without worrying about making the books last until her next trip to Velaris.

The mind-numbing task of washing the dishes gave Cassian the chance to remember his excitement and clear the exhaustion from his bones.

Nesta had lit a fire in the hearth, so Cassian set to making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks onto a platter- the only thing they had left in their small kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Nesta tipped her head back and smiled as Cassian came around the couch. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her skin and the sofa, and she'd already opened it wide to feel the heat of the fireplace.

"How could I not?" Cassian winked as he handed Nesta her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Cassian could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Solstice, we won't have any parties for a month."

"Two months." Cassian clinked his mug against Nesta's. They were both promised to attend the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard in late winter as part of the delegation from Night, but other than an orgy in Day they were absolutely not interested in, no other invitations had arrived.

Nesta took Cassian's mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She scooted forward while he sat to give his wings room, then nuzzled into his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her naked torso, and curved his wing to capture some of the fire's heat and directed it towards her skin. It was a simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his love by his side and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"We have to leave at nine to make it to Velaris for lunch." Nesta mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Azriel is seeing us tomorrow, so he won't winnow in," Azriel stopped by to pass information on to Cassian, gather reports on activity in the Steppes, and probably to 'subtly' check on Nesta as she continued to improve and find her way back from the darkness that had consumed her.

"I know that too," Cassian raised an eyebrow and peered down at Nesta. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Nesta growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Cassian teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing holiday plans."

Nesta grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Cassian nuzzled the top of Nesta's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, demon-witch. Take."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless as she huffed a laugh, "then- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Cassian was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Cassian's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Nesta shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Cassian drifted away from Nesta's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Cassian breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Nesta a while to notice. Cassian's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Nesta moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Cassian nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Cassian didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Nesta shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Cassian took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Nesta shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Cassian latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Nesta jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Cassian kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Cassian loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Nesta bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Cassian's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Cassian always teased and taunted Nesta. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Cassian) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Cassian still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Nesta's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Cassian's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Cassian was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Cassian's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Cassian's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Nesta tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Cassian asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Nesta bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Nesta's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Nesta was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Cassian laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Nesta rested her hands on Cassian's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Cassian's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Nesta dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Cassian's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Cassian lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Nesta felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Cassian, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Nesta could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Cassian responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Nesta cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Cassian never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Nesta's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Cassian was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Nesta's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Nesta laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Nesta's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Cassian stood with Nesta in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He held her tight as he carried her upstairs to bathe.

Nesta was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Cassian washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Nesta murmured after Cassian carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Cassian was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Cassian decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more pe


	5. Elorcan Edition

** Elorcan Edition **

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Lorcan found himself wandering through the wreckage of Perranth Manor.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Lorcan's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he endured the idle chatter from the city's leaders.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the manor for some early Yulemas celebrations. Business owners, merchants, artists, builders, officials- each and every one of them were heavily invested in rebuilding and repopulating a city nearly eradicated by Erawan's forces. Perranth was hit particularly hard, seeing as the army had been camped in front of it. Lorcan couldn't help but wonder if some of the brutality was aimed at Elide personally, knowing she was one of Aelin's friends. If Maeve's forces joined with Erawan in Perranth, then that was almost guaranteed.

To celebrate the first real Yulemas after the war (the other didn't count because they were still camped at Orynth), Lorcan and Elide had prepared gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four wrapped gifts remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Two days before Yulemas, and Lorcan had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Orynth to mark altogether the holiday (celebrated with Dorian, Chaol, and Manon), the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering of Cadre members with Aedion and Aelin to commemorate Gavriel's sacrifice (and get blasted drunk), and then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day Lysandra was coming in wyvern form to carry him and Elide to Orynth for two days of merrymaking (and more drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Lorcan found that he loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew the morning servants would clean up the mess, Lorcan picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to go upstairs and relax, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the servants with an easier day than they were expecting. Perhaps it was because Elide had one been forced to serve as a maid- he couldn't stop himself from cleaning up before they even got a chance.

Elide was upstairs soaking her sore ankle in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress and strain would come from a job well done (and maybe a bath of his own later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Elide come downstairs and head for the parlor, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Elide merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Lorcan stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with friends rather than near-strangers, and he was actually looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year.

… Elide had thoroughly massacred the cold-hearted general. Her love turned Lorcan soft- or as soft as a prickly old fae could be.

He smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Elide tipped her head back and smiled as Lorcan entered the room. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not," Lorcan winked and handed Elide her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Lorcan could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better? How's your ankle?"

"It's fine, just promise me that after Yulemas we won't have any parties for a month."

"Four months," Lorcan clinked his mug against Elide's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin Westfall's birthday and you know that will be another Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be." Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Elide was concerned.

She took Lorcan's mug from him in silent command and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Elide nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his wife in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"Lysandra won't arrive until mid-morning." Elide mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"The maids won't even come until after we leave."

"I know that too," he raised an eyebrow and peered down at Elide. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone, and there won't be any interruptions for a long time." Elide moved to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

She growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Lorcan teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing the schedule."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Lorcan nuzzled the top of Elide's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, wife. Take."

Elide's smile only grew, "Well in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Lorcan was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Lorcan's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Elide shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Lorcan drifted away from Elide's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Lorcan breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Elide a while to notice. Lorcan's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Elide moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Lorcan nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Lorcan didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Elide shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Lorcan took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Elide shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Lorcan latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Elide jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Lorcan kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Lorcan loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Elide bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Lorcan's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Lorcan always teased and taunted Elide. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Lorcan) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Lorcan still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Elide's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Lorcan's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Lorcan was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Lorcan's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Lorcan's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Elide tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Lorcan asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Elide bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Elide's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Elide was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Lorcan laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Elide rested her hands on Lorcan's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Lorcan's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Elide dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Lorcan's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Lorcan lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Elide felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Lorcan, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Elide could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Lorcan responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Elide cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Lorcan never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Elide's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Lorcan was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Elide's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Elide laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Elide's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Lorcan stood with Elide in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Elide was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Lorcan washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Elide murmured after Lorcan carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Lorcan was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Lorcan decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Lorcan smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


	6. Feysand Edition

**Feysand Edition**

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted back to their own homes, Rhysand found himself wandering through the wreckage of the riverfront house.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Rhys' ears still bled with the roaring din of endless noise- much of it his own as he played tag with the younglings in the back garden or chatted idly with their parents.

In all over a hundred fae trickled through the riverfront estate for some early Solstice celebrations- Feyre's students, their families, and her artist friends. He and his mate had prepared small gifts for every child, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables. The sheer quantity was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four little bags of toys remained in the entryway- each neatly labeled for a student who wasn't there that night.

Two days before Solstice, and Rhys had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Winter as Kallias formally swore Viviane in as High Lady before thousands of witnesses. On its heels came a more informal gathering of High Lords and Ladies in Day with Helion, then finally this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than either that preceded it. The next day Cassian, Amren, Mor, Nesta, Lucien, and Azriel would arrive for the customary two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Rhysand loved the light and life, but five gatherings in five days took its toll.

With a wave of his hand, Rhysand conjured a garbage sack and began in the kitchen. An insignificant blast of magic could easily take care of every scrap of mess in a second, but he didn't want it to be clean so quickly. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment. Feyre was upstairs soaking in a candlelit bath, for him the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe his own bath later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese slices and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance, yard, and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed.

The magic embedded in their house pushed at him as it tried to take over the chores, but Rhys pushed right back. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could sense Feyre moving around two rooms away, but he wasn't concerned. She understood what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Feyre merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and reclined on a low couch.

Rhys stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next two days of feasting and celebrations would be with their family, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Solstice gifts this year.

The mind-numbing task had given his brain a chance to remember that excitement and clear the fuzz out of his head.

The High Lord of Night busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. Knowing Feyre wasn't one for much caffeine, he ensured hers was more hot cocoa than proper coffee. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers accompanied the drinks- the only thing in the whole kitchen not holiday-themed.

"Feel better?" Feyre tipped her head back and smiled as Rhys entered the room. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not?" Rhys winked as he handed Feyre her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Rhys could sit beside her. "What about you? Feeling better?"

"Promise me that after Solstice we won't have any parties for a month."

"Two months," Rhys clinked his mug against Feyre's. They were promised to attend the after-mating wedding of Thesan and his Captain of the Guard in late winter, but other than an orgy in Day they were absolutely not interested in, no other invitations had arrived.

Feyre took Rhys' mug from his hand and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. She nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with their mate against them and a mug of cocoa-coffee in their hand.

"We're helping Elain down from the House of Wind at mid-morning tomorrow," Feyre mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

The middle Archeron was utilizing the larger kitchen in the palace overlooking Velaris for her holiday baking. The food for their earlier party had been ordered from two different locations, but Elain insisted on doing all the heavy lifting for the Solstice-Eve and Solstice feasts.

"Nuala and Cerridwen aren't arriving until lunch." The twins were on separate holidays with their lovers.

"I know that too," Rhys raised an eyebrow and peered down at Feyre. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"We're completely alone," she shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

Feyre growled, "Then take the Cauldron-damned hint."

"What hint?" Rhys teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over Feyre's, "We're talking about holiday plans."

She just grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Rhys nuzzled the top of Feyre's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked smile, "Don't just hint, my darling. Take."

The grin faded slightly, and uncertainty crept into Feyre's voice, "Take? Are you sure?"

She'd played the brat in bed, teasing and taunting, but that was different from what he was suggesting. After what Rhys survived Under the Mountain, and the long road he was still walking back from that horror-

"It's alright," Rhys claimed Feyre's mouth. "It's you." When she still didn't move- and the fear still didn't leave her face- he growled, "Take the Cauldron-damned hint."

"It's not a hint when you ask directly."

"That's right- I asked directly." he fixed her with an open, steady gaze and repeated, "It's alright. It's you."

"Okay," her voice was slightly breathless and she was still uncertain, "then- kiss me?"

Rhys cocked an eyebrow, "Is that a question, or-?"

It was her turn to growl, "Kiss. Me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Rhys was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Rhys' fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Feyre shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Rhys drifted away from Feyre's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck. Rhys breathed in the scent of her soap, brushing his nose against the damp strands of hair that had fallen into the bathwater.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Feyre a while to notice. Rhys' mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Feyre moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Rhys nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Rhys didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Feyre shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Rhys took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Feyre shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Rhys latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Feyre jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Rhys kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Rhys loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Feyre bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Rhys' was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Rhys always teased and taunted Feyre. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Rhys) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Rhys still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Feyre's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Rhys' iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Rhys was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Rhys' whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Rhys' out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Feyre tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Rhys asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Feyre bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Feyre's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Feyre was as tired as her husband, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Rhys laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me again."

"As you wish," he purred.

Feyre rested her hands on Rhys' chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Rhys' arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Feyre dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Rhys' hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Rhys lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Feyre felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Rhys, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Feyre could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Rhys responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Feyre cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Rhys never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Feyre's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Rhys was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Feyre's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Feyre laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Feyre's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Rhys stood with Feyre in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Feyre was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Rhys washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Feyre murmured after Rhys carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Rhys was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Rhys decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his wife's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Rhys smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.


End file.
